


It’s the Being Soft for Me

by radiogagaboy



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Is Soft, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gabriel is a Dick (Good Omens), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, can be read as an asexual relationship, fat shaming (off screen), i swear it’s not that angsty, mentions of fat shaming, unhealthy eating habits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27036493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiogagaboy/pseuds/radiogagaboy
Summary: They respected each other’s boundaries with only the occasional slip up here and there in the beginning. Crowley had always made sure to not go too fast, to pull the brakes before he stepped over boundaries, and to never hurt Aziraphale.This time he had gone too far, and Tiktok was the one to blame.(Explanation of certain tags in notes at the beginning!)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 76





	It’s the Being Soft for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Here’s a bit more insight on those tags up there!  
> Aziraphale happens to skip out on breakfast and caught down on his food intake, thus the unhealthy eating habits tag.  
> Discussion of the whole “I’m soft scene”, hence the mention of fat shaming/fatphobia tag.  
> Also, you can pry autistic Aziraphale out of my cold dead hands :)  
> Happy reading!

For once, it was Crowley who had gone too far. In the past, before Armageddon and them finding their side, it had always been Aziraphale to cross that line. It’s not like Crowley had ever expressed how he felt when his angel would bring up that he Fell, or when he would deny their friendship very loudly. They spoke about it, one night a few days after the rest of their lives. Aziraphale had broken down sobbing, begging for Crowley’s forgiveness, saying that no matter what Heaven could have done to him was worth treating Crowley that poorly. The night had ended with both of them painfully sober, emotions spilling out of their chests as they spoke about what could be spoken about and what was better off left alone. Crowley had admitted that his Falling was a touchy subject that shouldn’t be spoken about unless he brought it up. Aziraphale said Heaven was painful to think about and had asked that they didn’t discuss it other than poking fun of the Host and what they say. They both agreed to respect what the other said was unmentionable and Crowley made sure that Aziraphale knew he was forgiven. 

That was the end of that. They respected each other’s boundaries with only the occasional slip up here and there in the beginning. He had always made sure to not go too fast, to pull the brakes before he stepped over boundaries, to never hurt Aziraphale.

This time he had gone too far, and Tiktok was the one to blame. 

Their evening had started nice, just as all the other evenings together during quarantine. Crowley had ended up calling Aziraphale and traveled through the phone lines, near tears as he explained that he couldn’t stand being alone in his flat and wished to be with his angel once more. Aziraphale had accepted him with open arms and they had spent every day after that together, even through his nap, Aziraphale was with him. It was on that fateful night that Crowley had just so happened to be scrolling through Tiktok while they were cuddling on the sofa and the two had seen a video of two teens going back and forth “exposing” one another. 

“I don’t understand,” Aziraphale commented as he ran one hand through Crowley’s hair as the other one tapped on the demon’s sternum. Crowley simply raised an eyebrow and kept on scrolling. 

“What don’t you understand, angel?” 

The tapping on his chest had picked up speed as Aziraphale replied with a slightly hesitant voice. 

“Uhm, what exactly was humorous about that video?” 

Crowley paused his browsing and looked up at Aziraphale, trying to quickly come up with a good way to explain it to him.

“Right, so, people find it humorous because it went from light teasing to something really big and personal,” he said carefully, determining that explaining it very plainly rather than trying to explain the specific joke was the best option. Aziraphale pursed his lips and kept his eyes forward, clearly trying to wrap his head around this information. 

“Isn’t that considered rude, though? That poor girl seemed upset and it showed her speaking to her friend that they had said something too personal at the end of the video,” asked Aziraphale as he tilted his head in confusion. Crowley nodded his head and made an affirming noise.

“Well, yes it is. It’s rude humor and they had most likely planned what they were going to say to each other so they didn’t actually hurt one another,” he explained, already knowing that Aziraphale’s confusion most likely stemmed from concern. “It’s like how sometimes we tease each other about little things. Get it?” 

Aziraphale’s hand stopped tapping and the hand in Crowley’s hair removed itself, with Aziraphale remaining silent. With a light chuckle, Crowley lifted himself off of Aziraphale’s lap and rearranged himself so he was sitting with his legs crossed and facing the angel, who mirrored his actions. 

“Alright, let’s do it ourselves. I’ll start,” he said, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to come up with something, “It’s the dirty bookshop for me, angel,” he joked, making sure that his tone was as light and friendly as possible so that Aziraphale knew he wasn’t being serious. 

“Now you tease me about something, angel.” 

A light sparked in Aziraphale’s eye.

“Ok, well let’s see,” he muttered under his breath while he thought of something. 

“Oh! I know! It’s the sad slut vibes for me, my dear.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide at Aziraphale's words, laughter threatening to bubble up his throat. 

“Where’d you learn that from, angel? Last I checked, Wilde didn’t use the word slut in his work.”

Aziraphale let out a chuckle and began rocking back and forth. 

“Anathema taught me one day when we went out shopping, saying she was upset that she couldn’t find any clothes that would fit her aesthetic. I asked her what her aesthetic was and she told me it was witch vibes,” he excitedly explained, putting air quotes around the term witch vibes. “She then began to tell me what aesthetic belongs to us.” 

Crowley let out a laugh, shaking his head at Book Girl’s antics. 

“Of course. Continuing and building up. It’s the preppy attitude for me.” he said holding his head up so his nose was up in the air. 

Aziraphale simply rolled his eyes, a grin creeping on his face as he slowly began to flap his hands. “It’s the traumatized plants for me.”

A deep flush went up Crowley’s face, but he matched Aziraphale’s grin, eyes flashing with something mischievous as he came up with what he was going to say next. 

“You’re getting a hang of this, angel.”

Aziraphale’s hands picked up speed as the angel furiously nodded his head. 

“Yes! I see the amusement now, though it’s most likely because it’s between us and we know we’re not hurting each other. Continue please!”

Crowley tilted his head and felt joy pool in his chest at seeing his angel get so happy. 

“It’s the you being soft for me,” he said, tilting his back as he let out a bellow of laughter. Had he been a bit more sober, he would have noticed Aziraphale’s hands stopped their movement.

Had he not laughed so loud, he would have realized that Aziraphale wasn’t laughing with him. 

It wouldn’t be until the next day that he would notice something was off. 

* * *

Crowley walked into the kitchen the morning after whistling a jaunty tune, stopping to place a peck on Aziraphale’s cheek. 

“Morning, angel. What do you want for breakfast today?” he asked while he rummaged through the fridge, already beginning to pick out the ingredients for an omelet. He waited a few moments before poking his head back up at the lack of response. Aziraphale wasn’t looking at him, just slowly rocking back and forth in his chair. 

“Angel?” Crowley called out, assuming that Aziraphale had gotten lost in thought again. The angel didn’t spare him a glance once he responded with a cold and detached, “No thank, dear.”

Crowley fixed him with a confused look but began to put the ingredients back in their proper place. He shrugged it off to Aziraphale having a bad sensory morning and moved to adjust the curtains so they let in less light. Walking back to Aziraphale, he sat across from him and put his hand on the table as an offering.

“Alright, love?”

Seeming to snap out of whatever was going in his mind, Aziraphale glanced down and took Crowley’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“I’m tickety-boo, my dear boy,” he murmured with a soft smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

* * *

It was hours later that Aziraphale blurted out his desire to take a walk that day. While taking their routine stroll Crowley had offered to buy his angel an ice lolly or cone, but was once again given a “No thank you, my love,” as Aziraphale rushed forward, forcing Crowley to break out into a quick sprint to catch up. 

_It’s just a bad sensory day and ice treats are too cold for him right now_ , he thought to himself as the angel reached for his hand and began swinging their arms. 

At lunch, Aziraphale had only ordered a soup and salad, declining Crowley’s offer of a gyro, which was the angel’s typical order for lunch at that particular restaurant. Crowley could only stare behind his glasses, completely flabbergasted at what he was witnessing. Aziraphale looked up at Crowley and tilted his head, eyebrows furring together. 

“Everything alright, my dear?” 

Crowley’s mouth twitched down as he muttered.

“I should be asking you the same thing, angel.”

Aziraphale only stared at Crowley with a blank face before going back to picking at his salad.

It was dinner that had pushed Crowley over the edge. He lost a grip on his tongue and snapped at Aziraphale when he said he wasn’t hungry and asked for another side salad with no dessert. 

“Angel, what the fuck are you doing?”

Aziraphale looked up from his book, a sudden flash of panic passing over his eyes.

“What?”

Crowley let out a growl and rubbed his face, a wave of guilt washing over him. He stood up from where he was lounging and began to pace.

“Sorry for yelling. I love you and I’m not upset with you, just worried.” 

He saw Aziraphale relax his shoulder at his reassurance, making him feel even worse for snapping at his beloved. 

“I’m worried that you’re not eating the amount you usually would and we’ve broken our usual routines,” he said, his words blending with how fast he was speaking. Aziraphale remained silent but began to rock back and forth. Crowley sighed, making his way towards where Aziraphale was sitting on the backroom’s sofa.

“Angel, can you please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, taking the angel’s hands and putting them up to his lips.

“Please, angel. I love you so much and I don’t like it when you’re upset,” he whispered as he placed his forehead against Aziraphale’s hands. The silence that had settled between them was broken by the sound of Aziraphale sniffling, followed by the angel ripping his hands out of Crowley’s hold. When Crowley looked up he was met with the sight of tears streaming down his angel’s face as Aziraphale wrapped his arms around his plush stomach.

Crowley immediately sat down beside Aziraphale, his hands fluttering in the air as he questioned if his touch would be welcomed or if it would be too overstimulating. Deciding it would be better to be safe than sorry, Crowley dropped his arms to his side as he tried to figure out if he should let this ride out then ask questions later or if he should talk to Aziraphale now. He didn’t get the chance to make up his mind seeing as Aziraphale spoke first. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed through gritted teeth, the angel’s body rocking back and forth. 

“I know I shouldn’t cry, I’m sorry, Crowley,” he continued, not realising how his words were sending Crowley near tears. 

“No no no, angel, you’re allowed to cry,” Crowley reassured. Aziraphale cracked an eye open and wearily eyed the demon with a pained look, but his tears were starting to subside. 

It took nearly thirty minutes, but Aziraphale was eventually able to calm down with the help of Crowley softly coaching him through different breathing exercises. It was once again Aziraphale who broke the silence between them. 

“The other angels used to tease me all the time, about my love for food,” he started, glancing up at Crowley, who was looking at Aziraphale with wide eyes that screamed concern. 

“Is that why you didn’t eat much today, angel? Because there is nothing wrong about your love for food.” insisted Crowley, who wanted to march Upstairs and deck every angel he came across. Aziraphale shrugged and continued.

“I suppose that could be one of the reasons, but it’s not the main one.”

Crowley nodded his head in reassurement, holding his hand out in case Aziraphale needed some extra comfort. The angel let go of his stomach and reached out for Crowley, letting himself fall onto Crowley’s chest and wrap the demon’s arms around himself. 

“Gabriel used to call my body too soft, saying it was a weakness that I needed to get under control. And there are times where I feel like he was right, that I should slim down my corporation and be what they want me to be.That there is something wrong with me.”

A tense silence settled between them as Crowley tried to reel in his anger. Then, Aziraphale whispered so softly that if it weren’t for Crowley being a supernatural being, he was sure he wouldn’t have heard it. 

“Do you think I’m soft, Crowley?” 

The memory of last slammed to the forefront of Crowley’s brain and he began to mentally curse himself out. He tightened his hold on Aziraphale’s plump waist and began peppering kisses all over the angel’s head. Aziraphale buried himself further into Crowley’s chest, his shoulders softly shaking as he began to cry once more. 

“I’m sorry,” Crowley whispered into Aziraphale’s hair, “I didn’t mean it like that, angel. You aren’t _soft_ to me, you’re beautiful and I hate it when you talk to yourself like that.” 

Crowley readjusted his grip on Aziraphale so he could drag the angel onto his lap and fully hold onto him. 

“I love your corporation so much, and I love you even more. I love every single golden stretch mark that lines your stomach and thighs, that little pocket of fat that you have underneath your chin, and I love the extra plush your arms and legs have. I love the curve over your stomach and how it spills out over your pants.”

Each compliment Crowley gave was accompanied by a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head as his hands roamed his angel’s body, giving a gentle squeeze to every part that he spoke about. When he finished, he tilted Aziraphale’s head up so he could look the love of his life in the eye as he said his next words.

“Most importantly, I love how soft you are, and I wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

Aziraphale searched Crowley’s eyes and was met with nothing but adoration, the waves of love radiating off the demon crashing into Aziraphale’s senses. The angel leaned forward and planted a kiss on Crowley’s cheek before snuggling into his lover’s neck, letting the gentle scent of burnt cinnamon soothe him.

“I love you, Crowley, with all of my being,” Aziraphale murmured as he began to trace hearts on Crowley’s chest. The demon sputtered and buried his flushed face into Aziraphale’s hair. 

“I love you too, angel. More than anything.”

The two stayed in that position for many hours, neither of them willing to move away just yet. Crowley was just beginning to nod off when he felt Aziraphale smirk against his neck. 

“What?” he asked sleepily. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t mention my arse doing that speech of yours.” 

Crowley snorted and let his hands drifted downward to his angel’s plump rear with no intent. 

“I do love your fat arse, angel, but I felt like it wouldn’t have been an appropriate time. We were kinda having a moment, there.” 

Aziraphale giggled at Crowley, and slid off the demon’s lap, who protested with a whine.

“Come along, my dearest. Let’s go to bed.”

And they went upstairs to the flat above the bookshop, both undressing from their day clothes, until they were both under the covers. 

But before Crowley went to sleep, he made sure to give a goodnight kiss to every golden stretch mark his angel had and pepper Aziraphale’s soft stomach with sweet kisses. He promised Aziraphale to do that every night until the angel was able to understand how much Crowley loved his corporation, and every night after that. 

And Crowley never broke his promise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated! This fic was based off a lovely post from the Instagram account: dailyaziraphale I definitely suggest giving the folks over there a look because the mods make top tier content!  
> Thanks to mods Dick (the creator of the post) and Koko for letting me do this!  
> Link to post: https://www.instagram.com/p/CEAuGmClF7e/?igshid=1uom87haitcv4  
> Link to Instagram account: https://instagram.com/dailyaziraphale?igshid=11qsx62idrrot  
> You can find my on Instagram as well under the same username: radiogagaboy


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